


the weight of love (in your arms)

by joshllyman



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s02e04 In this White House, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 12:14:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joshllyman/pseuds/joshllyman
Summary: He steals a glance at Josh and sees that his face is carefully blank, intentionally wiped of all emotion.“Just tired?” Sam asks quietly, and Josh looks up at him.Josh shakes his head. “Something like that.”





	the weight of love (in your arms)

After.

After Nimbala leaves, after the heavy, horrible conversation with him, after the argument with Ainsley, after a long, long week of feeling beaten up at every turn.

Sam and Josh walk through the halls of the West Wing. It’s just after three in the morning, so their footsteps echo loudly in the darkened corridors. They’re not speaking at the moment; the weight of what is about to happen to President Nimbala, a man they had both come to admire, is heavy on their minds, and Sam’s still got a niggling unhappy feeling about earlier conversations. Sam is trying to revel in the quiet, revel in the brush of Josh’s shoulder against his with every other step. The brief contact Josh had made with him earlier, outside of Leo’s office, it’s still burned into his skin. He wants to reach down and take Josh’s hand, but even at three in the morning that’s not a wise decision where they work. It causes something in his heart to ache painfully, as it often does. He steals a glance at Josh and sees that his face is carefully blank, intentionally wiped of all emotion.

“Just tired?” Sam asks quietly, and Josh looks up at him. 

Josh shakes his head. “Something like that.” 

Sam considers him for several more steps as they approach Josh’s office. “Anything you want to talk about?”

Josh stops suddenly, and Sam knows as soon as he’s stopped (he keeps tabs on where Josh is so much of the time, now, whenever he can) and turns to face him.

“When did you get so good at reading me?” Josh asks, his voice low. 

If they were at home, Sam would brush a hand along Josh’s cheek, now, lean in and whisper in his ear. As it is he shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. “I’ve racked up quite a few years of practice,” he answers.

Josh’s eyes shine, and he gives Sam a half-hearted smile, and he keeps walking. Sam falls back into step beside him. “It’s stupid,” he says eventually. They walk into Josh’s office and Sam closes the door behind them. Josh begins to gather paperwork into his bookbag, intentionally avoiding Sam’s eye. “It’s what Ainsley said earlier.”

Sam bristles, anger rising quickly in his chest. “I’m going to personally take the guns of every person in the entire country and make a huge bonfire and Ainsley Hayes, God help her, can stand there and watch them all burn.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Josh says mildly. 

“She had no—” Sam starts, feels his voice rising, and takes a deep, shaky breath to calm himself down. “She had no right,” he says. “I can’t believe she brought it up. Here, of all places, now, of all times.” Sam balls his hands into fists and turns away from Josh. “The nerve, the gall she has, it’s unbearable. I could take the self-righteous Republican bullshit, but to bring up guns? In front—in front of you?”

“Hey,” says Josh softly, and his arms are suddenly wrapped around Sam’s waist. 

“We’re still at work,” Sam murmurs.

“Door’s closed,” Josh answers easily. “I’m willing to risk it.”

Sam turns and buries his head in Josh’s shoulder, crushes Josh in an embrace that he suspects is uncomfortably tight. He’s going to cry, he knows it, he’s too tired and this week’s been hell and it’s too much, right now, to fight it off. 

“This wasn’t supposed to be about me,” he says, his voice muffled by the fabric of Josh’s suit, his voice thick with unshed tears. “I should be comforting you.”

“It can go both ways,” Josh whispers, and that’s enough to finally push Sam over the edge.

Sam loses track of how long they stand there, Sam shaking with quiet sobs, Josh holding him through it all. Josh is muttering to him all the while, “I’m still here,” kissing his temple and cheek and hands. When Sam finally calms some, when he thinks he’s past the worst of it, Josh pulls away and cups his jaw.

“I’m still here,” he says, more loudly now. Sam presses his forehead against Josh’s and breathes in deep. “I was upset, too. It’s been—I know it’s been hard, for both of us. But what I was thinking earlier is that Ainsley Hayes didn’t shoot me, and as much as I’d like to take her down, it won’t help.”

“It might,” Sam mumbles. “It would make me feel better, at least.” He earns a chuckle for that, a kiss brushed against the corner of his mouth.

“I know you want to protect me,” Josh whispers with his lips still pressed against Sam’s skin. “There are things I need your help with, things I don’t know if I can do on my own. But the battle against Ainsley, and all her Republican cronies, is one I know how to fight. Suit up beside me. That’s enough.”

Sam closes his eyes. “I can do that.”

Josh hums and kisses Sam, lets his lips linger for several moments too long. “Let’s go home,” Josh says, pulling away and laying a heavy hand on Sam’s arm. Sam nods, and they finish packing up Josh’s stuff.

They don’t touch again, not on their way out from the office, not in the cab on the way home, not up the stairs to Josh’s apartment. With the door closed behind them Sam’s hands fumble at the buttons of Josh’s shirt, Josh’s lips against his throat, and when he finally gets it off he traces the the angry red scar marring Josh’s skin with each finger in turn. He tries not to let his hands shake.

“I’m still here,” Josh says again, murmuring it into Sam’s ear.

“I know,” Sam answers. He falls to his knees and presses his lips to the healing wound, and Josh winds his fingers through Sam’s hair. “You’re here, and I love you.”

With his free hand Josh lifts Sam’s chin up to look him in the eyes. “I love you too, Sam.”

**Author's Note:**

> title is from "the weight of love" by snow patrol  
> i wrote this in an hour and let no one read it before i posted  
> their whole nonverbal communication in this episode fucks me up, i can't stop thinking about it at any given time  
> follow me on tumblr @joshllyman where i scream about these soft boys on a regular basis


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